The Red wolf conspiracy

From the secret journal of G. Starling Fiffengurt, Quartermaster

Imperial Mercantile Ship Extraordinaire CHATHRAND

[Reg. 4.0279/Ethrhrd]

under NILUS ROSE, by Order of His Supremacy Captain

and Final Offshore Authority

In this the year 941

Being the 28th of the reign of His Supremacy Magad V

Tuesday, 4 Vaqrin. We made good speed all the first night under a jeweler's moon, amp; the next day had merciful clear skies. Even with the headwinds tonight I will be surprised if we are six days in reaching the capital.

The old boat has never been more fit. I so stated to the captain amp; 1st mate Uskins, amp; Capt. Rose said it was not for the quartermaster to offer casual opinions about the state of the vessel. At that the grackle-mouthed Uskins smirked amp; nodded. Rose spotted him amp; fairly blew his powder, ordering the "fatuous great fop" about his duties. I took care that my own face betrayed no satisfaction.

Of course, bad temper is no new affliction in Rose: when he commanded the Chathrand 12 years ago he flogged a man for hiccups. Yet something ails him, I think, amp; it is more than his combustible spirit. 'Tis only two days I've spent in his company, but already I sense his unease. When he came aboard with trumpets blaring, he walked up to me in front of the assembled officers amp; said the following, more or less:

"Mr. Fiffengurt. I know you wanted this captaincy, as you've served a good span of years on the Great Ship. But I have my commission in hand, double-signed by the ship's owners amp; the Emperor himself. I'm captain, and like as not you never shall be, now, for you're no spring chicken. This was probably your last chance. I advise you to chew on that unhappy fact as we cross Ellisoq Bay, and make your peace with it. And if you're not ready to serve me like any other man aboard, ship off in Etherhorde amp; seek another boat! Don't cross me, amp; don't try to curry favor with any man against me. Now give me your inventory."

With that he snatched my logbook, opened it amp; frowned. He said my penmanship was fussy amp; womanish, amp; gave Uskins the task of log-keeper for the voyage. I tried to look unhappy, but inside I rejoiced. Thirteen years I've kept those logs: thirteen years scribbling every cough of wind amp; blush of weather amp; blotch of ringworm in the crew. Never was I free to do as I shall henceforth: record my private thoughts. Here's to you, Uskins, you sow.

Of course, private notebooks are forbidden. Every word becomes the property of the Chathrand Trading Family as soon as you commit it to paper. That is why I write only in bed, like a naughty schoolboy, amp; hide this journal in a secret place.

How surprised Rose would be to know I never wanted his post! Indeed that I should have left the sea for good last year, amp; married one sweet Annabel, amp; joined her father's little brewery on Hoopi Street, if criminals from the thrice-damned Mangel Beerworks had not burned it to the ground. Now to help that good family recover I shall be three more years at sea. By Rin, there's no evil like profit-lust. Anni's dad brewed good ales: that was his crime. On the best of days he could not have sold a tenth as much as those scheming barons of beer.

At least I can be glad of this mission-proud of it, indeed. Bless the Emperor! Bless whatever wise men there be among the Black Rags our enemies (though Rin amp; his Angel are unknown to them)! This great work of peace will outlast us all, amp; if I have children amp; grandchildren with dear Anni (it is not impossible yet; not in three years, even), they shall brag a little about their daddy's part. Bless Rose, too: the Emperor named him to this task, amp; I must trust his reasons.

Capt. Rose still frowns when he sees me. But I do not take his abuse to heart. In every task he seems twitchy amp; distracted, as if thinking of some immense amp; immediate problem, a sea full of icebergs, plague among the crew. How strange, all this worry amp; anger, when only yesterday he spoke of joining the Brotherhood of Serenity.

I do hope that man Bolutu can help him; otherwise our captain will have hard sailing toward his goal. For they say monks of the Brotherhood purge themselves of all low emotions: they do not fear, or lust, or even weep at a parent's death. Above all they do not hate. In truth I cannot think of a less probable personality than Brother Nilus Rose.

Until yesterday I might at least have called him fearless. But this morning a thing happened that I should not have believed if any man aboard swore it by the milk of the One Tree. I had just finished the survey of our new sailors amp; brought the results to the wardroom for Mr. Elkstem's inspection. When I arrived Elkstem was away, but Capt. Rose stood alone at the back of the chamber, against the bulkhead, with a clutch of maps under his arm amp; the oddest look on his face I ever saw in a ship's commander.

"Fiffengurt," he said in a trembly voice, "come in here."

I did so. In the center of the wardroom table, the Lady Oggosk's pet, Sniraga, crouched on another map, looking sleepy amp; pleased with herself. She is a rascal of a cat amp; will bite you if you stroke her, but at that moment she was all sweet cream amp; purrs. Rose, however, looked at her as if at a black ship closing fast with a deck full of buccaneers. He raised his hand amp; pointed at the animal.

"That devil!" he said. "I didn't see it come in!"

"Yes, Captain," says I. "Cats are a race of sneaky-boots, all right. Quiet as you please."

"It's blary well not quiet now! What's it saying, Fiffengurt?"

I own I gaped at my own captain. "Saying, sir? That's purring, that is. Cats do that when they're glad to see you, sir."

"That damn bloodthirsty snaggle-fanged feline has no cause on earth to be glad to see me!" he roared. "Or to presume to use that tone, to threaten…"

His eyes had not moved from the red cat, who looked set to roll on her back amp; have her belly rubbed. I stood there like a mute. I knew that when the Capt. came to his senses he'd likely punish me just for witnessing him in this silly state. By Rin, it was weird! I didn't know what to say.

"Cats are curious, sir" was all I came up with.

"Get it out of here, Fiffengurt," said Rose, who still had not moved an inch.

"Oppo, sir. Shall I ask Lady Oggosk to confine the pet to her cabin?"

"Just remove it-chase it-get it out of my sight!"

I poked the animal in the ribs. She hissed at me, but shot right out of the wardroom. Then Capt. Nilus Rose shook himself amp; looked around as if waking from a dream, amp; asked what the blazes I'd come for.

Thursday, 6 Vaqrin. Not much time for you tonight, good journal! Four of the new tarboys will have to be jettisoned in Etherhorde: two brawling already over somebody's candy, one green with seasickness, the last wetting himself in his sleep like a babe, which cannot be tolerated where hammocks are slung one above the next.

So many errands in Etherhorde. We need new keys for the gate between the first-class compartments amp; the rest of the ship-the Money Gate, as my boys are already calling it. And we shall need a piano-mender: the daft steward in the first-class lounge unbolted the fixtures to wax the floor amp; did not think to secure them as we left port. Naturally the first big swell launched the old upright- amp; various tables, chairs amp; spittoons-across the boards like logs in a chute. The piano fetched over with a noise like Doomsday chimes. Hours I would have spent with Annabel will be lost to this foolishness, but first-class children must be free to scamper behind their gate without fear of riffraff, and first-class gents must have their dinner music.

Saturday, 8 Vagrin. Glad I am to write these words. Etherhorde is in sight.